


creatures of my dreams (raise up)

by WordsareBetterthanNumbers



Series: this is home [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - No Sokovia Accords, Bullying, Field Trip, Gen, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Superfamily (Marvel), Team as Family, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsareBetterthanNumbers/pseuds/WordsareBetterthanNumbers
Summary: "No, here is what you don't understand," the billionaire pointed his finger at Peter accusingly, "if things go wrong, if Cap, or Natasha, or anyone else gets hurt it's on them."Peter took a step backwards, but the glare never left his face."If you get hurt, it's on me.""What about if anyone gets killed and I wasn't there to stop it?" Peter can't stop the words coming out of his mouth, "How do you think that would make me feel, knowing I could have done something, anything, to save them?"Tony hesitated, "You can't seriously expect to save everyone.""I can try," as he put the mask on the holographs blinked into existence, "Iwilltry."---Otherwise known as the five times Peter Parker met an Avenger and the one time he was one. (Also, a bit of the good old Field Trip trope because I am a sucker for it)





	1. Iron Man

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Bois, 
> 
> So I'm putting a halt to my other series ([find my way home](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1106643)) because I'm going to focus on the three works for this series before they over lap. I have big plans, I kinda feel like Kevin Feige. Are you all ready? 'Cause I'm not. 
> 
> This series will follow its Sister Series's structure, it will be a 5+1 Story and two other Short Stories before they merge in my Infinity War fic.

_1\. Fall / Tony Stark_

Peter walked down the crowded New York street with a bagel in one hand and his phone in the other. His headphones filled his head with the sound of soothing music while he read the assignment his teacher had posted. Stupid chemistry, stupid school, he now had to cancel his evening patrolling plans to make time to get his homework done before fighting petty crime in his part of town.

He stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to change.

Peter had found that he, very often, felt out of place while walking around the city. He would walk around looking like the most average teenager in the entirety of New York and still feel like he looked incredibly out of place. Something about the way he moved, or maybe the way that his senses made him extremely aware of everything surrounding him, but the truth was that he felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.

The way that people always talked about Spider-Man also served to make Peter's sense of discomfort even greater. He would walk back to his house from school, stopping every now and then to grab some food or maybe say hi to one of May's Hair Club friends, and he would always find himself with the image of Spider-Man, or a conversation about him, in his hands. He was often reminded by the sweet old ladies at the fruit stand that Spider-Man was very popular with kids his age when they insisted on handing him a red and blue plastic bag to carry his satsumas in. Or when he stopped to grab some Pizza at the joint one block away from his apartment, and he was offered the chance to win a free slice if he could prove he was a true Spider-Man fan.

Most infuriating, and shameful, were the afternoons in which he would see an image of Spider-Man on the cover of newspapers. In those instances not only did he look ridiculous in his almost pyjama like costume, but he was more often than not reminded that he was not yet considered a hero by everyone. Today was one of those days.

Peter looked down at the forgotten page of The New York Times that stamped itself on his feet. From the cover, he could see a picture of his latest acts of pseudo-heroism. He had stopped a bus with his bare hands and had been so delighted by his strength that he had completely ignored the fact that his feet had created enormous dentures on the street. He sighed and kept walking once the light changed; trying, and failing spectacularly, to get the headline ' _Spider-Man, the Lastest in the Long Line of Wannabe Avengers_ ' out of his head.

He walked into the electrics store then, stuffing the last of his bagel into his mouth and smiling at the woman behind the counter, "Hey Donna."

Donna smiled, looking up from the circuit board she was working on, "Hey Pete, here to pick up the console?"

"Yep," he leaned into the counter, looking down at Donna's work, "having fun?"

Donna looked down and frowned, "Not really, but you gotta do what you gotta do."

She walked into the back part of the shop, leaving Peter alone with the soft creaking of the air conditioning and the mumbling of the television. He looked towards it, the small screen hiding in between buckets of cables and screws. The reporter was talking rapidly about the latest events of the Security Council, the images varied between the stills from the speech of the King of some small African nation and the stern and snobby face of the French President.

" _-even after long hours of debate and reform of the tenth draft of the Sokovia Accords the French President is refusing to give the 'Yes' vote when the final stage comes near_."

There was a pause, and a short clip of the French President's speech started rolling. He was a funny, ugly looking, man, short enough to have the podium cover most of his body, yet he radiated every bit of leadership that someone would expect a president to do, " _The last few months have been a clear demonstration of how slow a decisions can be when taken by such a large council as the United Nations. France is not willing to put its people's lives at stake because of other countries' unwillingness to act._ "

The image cut back to the reporter, " _International tension keeps rising over the accords situation, and experts are beginning to say it is a lost-_ "

"There's a quite heated debate going on, isn't it?"

Peter shrugged and collected the console, "I guess. I'm kinda impartial towards the Accords."

"Really?" her eyebrows shot up, "I thought you kids loved your superheroes."

"I mean I do love superheroes," Peter said, "but I feel like they could use some ground rules, to serve as a guide more than anything."

Donna nodded, her curly hair bouncing as she moved her head, "Sound logic. Tell your Aunt I said hi."

"Will do," He plugged back his headphones back in and walked out of the store, "Bye Donna."

The rest of the walk was uneventful; kids were running and playing around, teenagers talking and milling, there was loud music coming from one of the corners of the park in which a group of girls always practiced their dance moves after school. He turned a corner, the street of his house was not as bustling with activity as the other, but there were still some people walking around. A girl walking a dog and a woman pushing around a carriage while talking through the phone. He was so distracted he could have missed the fancy car parked right outside his apartment if he had not run into it.

He rubbed his leg where he had slammed against the metal, and whistled in appreciation. The Corvette looked pristine, not a scratch or smudge on the paint. He looked around, and once he noted that no bodyguard had come to scold him because of bumping into the car, he ran his hands over it. Man, if he could just get his hands on one of these.

There was a loud crash from something overhead, and Peter snapped out of his daze. He hitched his backpack further up his shoulder and walked into the building. The path was practised, and like every other day, he trecked up the stairs, nodding to his neighbours and smiling to the ones that acknowledged him. He opened the door to his house, "Hey, May!"

"Oh, hey," he hears her answer back, "how was school?"

"It was okay," he left the console on a table, walking over to his kitchen and grabbing a pear, "there's this crazy car parked outside-"

And it was like his brain had stopped functioning. For a second he thought that maybe he was just hallucinating, or that finally, he had found one of the adverse side effects of the spider bite because sitting in the couch of his living room was Tony Stark.

It took him a second to realise that Tony Stark had said something to him, another incredibly long one to process that his mouth had been working without him approving of it in the first place. In the end, he just tried his best to sound composed when he said ' _Hey, I'm Peter_ ' and still failed at not making a fool of himself.

He tried to open his mouth, and when nonsense came out May stepped in for him, "Peter, why didn't you tell me you had applied for the internship?"

"Or for that matter passed," Mr Stark continued, "we had been exchanging emails for a long time now, why didn't you tell your Aunt?"

"Well I-" He looked at the man, the look on his face spoke a thousand words, and all of them were some variation of _follow along, please_ , "I thought, well, I thought it would be good too, um, to surprise you. I love how much you love surprises. Anyway, what type of internship did I apply for?"

"That's what I am here to discuss," the billionaire grabbed something from the plate that was lying on the tea table and gave it a bite, "So, Mr Parker, do you have a room we can talk, in private?"

And that's how Peter ended with Tony Stark sitting on his bed with a hand on his shoulder while Peter felt his heart shatter. He should have seen it coming when Iron Man turned up on his doorstep. His nice suit, perfect looking goatee, and ridiculously expensive _everything_. He was here to tell Peter to stop. He was here to give him the ' _Let the big guys fight those battles. You should focus on school_ ' talk.

"So you want to look out for the little guy," Mr Stark told him, squeezing his shoulder soft enough for Peter to barely feel it, "you want to do your part, in making the world a better place, and all that."

Peter nodded and wrung his hands, "Yeah, yeah, just looking out for the little guy."

Mr Stark wrinkled his nose, he gave a heavy sigh and squeezed Peter's shoulder again, "I don't need much from you, Peter. I really don't."

Peter sighed, ready to defend himself when the time came.

"But I have seen what you can do," he hesitated, "we have all seen what you can do, and we are more than impressed."

Mr Stark took his hand off his shoulder, Peter looked up to find he had taken off his glasses and was cleaning them with the bottom part of his shirt. "Peter there is a fight coming. A big one, nasty one, one that we cannot be ever fully prepared for, and we need all the help we can get, if not for the big battle then to defend the little guy. To make sure we can keep as many people safe as possible."

"Is that what you want me to do?" Peter asked, "Help you protect the people you can't?"

Mr Stark snapped his fingers, "Smart boy."

There was a second of silence in which Peter tried not to think about what Mr Stark was asking him to do, what it meant for future. He just kept waiting for the genius to explain more, to say something else.

"Alas, Cap wouldn't let me do this unless we could ensure that you were safe," Mr Stark placed the glasses back, "like I would ever do something so irresponsible." He reached into the pockets of his jacket, and took out a card, offering it to Peter, "We start tomorrow."

He started at the identification badge with wide eyes; there was a picture of him probably taken from his school yearbook, his name printed in bold black letters, and the words _Alpha Five_ right below that.

"See you at four, don't be late," the billionaire stood up and walked towards the door before stopping, "And for the love of God don't bring the onesie with you."

 


	2. Captain America

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh My God guys the reaction to this fic has been amazing. 500 hits in less than twenty four hours? Amazing. I love every single one of you. 
> 
> This chapter was written while listening to Ophelia by the Lumineers. 
> 
> Here goes the second chapter, I hope you like it!

_2\. Winter / Steve Rogers_  

 

It takes four whole months before Peter meets another Avenger.

He had a routine before he met Steve Rogers; every Tuesday and Thursday Happy would be waiting for him outside his school. He would climb aboard the car and spend the next forty minutes of the drive doing whatever homework he could finish. Then, from the moment he would arrive at the tower until the sun had set, and Mr Stark called him up to either the lab or the kitchen, he would train. The other days, the days in which Mr Stark would have to focus on other projects that were not Peter related, he would patrol until his muscles ached.

The gym in the Avengers tower was like anything anyone would expect for the Avengers. Sure, it had the usual gym equipment, upgraded with Super Soldier settings. But in the centre where there seemed to be a conventional fighting ring was what Mr Stark liked to call the SPAT.

"The system gives you a series of trials to complete in your first try," as the billionaire spoke a hologram flickered to life, "it analyses your strengths, weaknesses, tendencies, everything you would use in a fight. Then it gives you the perfect opponent."

"A perfect opponent made of hologram?"

To that Mr Stark had smiled and given him the green light to use SPAT. Fifteen minutes later Peter was lying on his back in the corner of the ring, having had his ass kicked by a bunch of solid holograms.

"Nanotech," the man told him while helping him to stand, "I am still trying to get it to be as strong as iron or, if I am lucky, vibranium for my armour. But for the time being it works perfectly fine for SPAT. Strong as human flesh and capable of doing serious damage."

Peter had looked at the humanoid form made by the program, it was standing to the side watching Peter. Or at least that's what Peter thought it was doing, it was not like the thing had any eyes, "When can I go again?"

"As soon as you are ready, kid," Mr Stark climbed out of the fighting ring, "I'll call you up if I need something from you."

Peter had waved him goodbye and had started to train.

But that had been months ago. Three months and two weeks to be exact, and while Peter knew he was getting better, the stupid thing would only become harder to fight as time progressed. He would beat SPAT to a pulp, knocking the hologram from its feet or kicking it so hard that an arm or a leg fell off, but the next time he would run the simulation he would be back at square one. He would fix his stances when the machine told him too, and would even go as far as doing things a hundred time in slow motion until he got the kick or the punch right, but by the time the fighting came, the program had changed to expect a perfect _whatever_.

He adjusted his hand wraps and practised his jabs one last time before running the simulation. Peter watched as the nanoparticles came together like dust attaching itself to a structure. The thing regarded him for a second before charging, it attacked with precision, aiming for Peter's throat and he deflected the punch. The fight lasted for a few seconds, and the SPAT only stopped attacking when Peter was laying on his back, pinned.

He tapped the floor thrice, and the thing moved.

"Again."

This fight lasted equally as short, the SPAT's knee came up and hit Peter in the stomach. When he double over the thing kicked him in the chest and sent him flying across the rink.

"Again."

The SPAT's elbow met the back of his head and Peter face planted into the ground.

"Again."

He had been winning the fight until the SPAT kicked him in the mouth. Peter licked the blood oozing from his lower lip.

"Again."

This time he was prepared. The SPAT lunged, and Peter somersaulted over his head. Gripping the thing's head, he pulled back with all his strength and the jump's momentum. The head disintegrated as he slammed it to the ground, and the holograph disappeared; nano molecules melting into the ground.

"Well done, Mr Parker," Peter rolled his shoulders and smiled at FRIDAY's complement, "that was way faster than the last try."

"Thanks, Fri," He stood up and stretched his hands towards the ceiling, trying to rid his back of his current pain.

"That was pretty impressive."

Peter turned around so fast he saw spots for a few seconds. The room was empty, Mr Stark hadn't walked in halfway through his training like he usually did, but leaning against the doorframe was Steve Rogers. Many thoughts ran across Peter's mind. He thought about playing it cool, telling Captain America that that had been nothing, or maybe even introducing himself like a normal person. Instead he, almost inaudibly, mumbled, "You have a beard now."

If not for his superhuman hearing then Capatian Rogers would have not heard. The older man chuckled, "Yeah, I do. Does wonders for the undercover work."

There was a second of silence in which Peter was frozen in place, recalling that awkward phase in which everything in his room had been Captain America themed. Captian Rogers took a step forward, and Peter couldn't help but notice he was favouring his left side, "So, you are the famous Spider-Man?"

"I, um, I don't-" _you don't need to deny it, stupid_ , "Yes. Hi. I'm Peter, Peter Parker."

"Steve Rogers," he said regardless of it being clear that Peter already knew that. "I was heading to the kitchen, want to come?"

For a second he thought about his half-completed training session until he realised that he was far too intelligent to turn down an offer made to him by Captain America. He walked out of the rink, cleaning his face with a small towel and grabbing his water bottle on his way out. The awkwardness in the air was overwhelming, and it was only aggravated when Captain Rogers turned towards him and asked, "You are awfully young, aren't you?"

"I am not. Well, I am, actually. Uh, I just, uh," Peter bit his lip trying to get the right words.

"You feel older than you actually are?"

They got to the kitchen, Peter leaned on the breakfast bar, fiddling and shifting to try and appear comfortable, "Yeah, exactly, sir."

Captain Rogers turned towards him, frowning, "Sir?"

Peter hadn't even noticed Mr Stark until he spoke, "Yeah, he talks like that to everyone. I have been trying to get him to drop the 'Mr Stark' for _months_."

"Mr Stark?" Captain Rogers asked with his eyebrows raised in amusement.

Mr Stark shrugged, "You get used to it."

Peter watched Mr Stark and Captain Rogers interact with curiosity. It went on for so long that Peter almost thought that they had forgotten about him until Steve set a plate of food in front of him and smiled. Peter ate happily, watching the snow fall all across the city.

Later on, when Peter's nerves had calmed down enough to be able to have a normal conversation, they were all sitting in the living room, talking and working on one of Mr Stark's latest designs. Or rather he and Mr Stark were working on the design while Captain Rogers told them about his latest adventure. An incredible story about unsettling HYDRA agents, a cold trail on the Winter Soldier, and technology that seemed designed specially to take the Super Soldier down.

"And that's how I ended up with this," the Captain patted his leg.

Peter frowned, "What happened to your leg?"

"The technology I was telling you about must have been designed based on Bucky's blood, or maybe another Super Soldier from the HYDRA division," Captain Rogers hiked up the pant leg on his right leg to show a that the skin had this ugly grey tint and the veins were completely black, "Completely freezes the serum from working properly."

"Yeah, and Mr Stuborn here is trying to walk off a femur fracture."

"A fissure, Tony."

"A bone malfunction, whatever, the point is he will be staying here for a while. So, I'd get used to having him around."

"How long?" He asked, then realised that probably sounded rude, "Not that I don't like having you around. Actually, I do, I feel like you could really help me get better with fighting and being a person and-- Okay I need to shut up, I'm rambling."

Captain Rogers laughed, "Five months, at least."

"That seems like a really long time."

"Yeah," Mr Stark agreed, "But we need to get a cure for this new weapon of theirs, then wait until it gets healed completely, _then_ make sure he is completely healed and his leg won't be failing him at the most inopportune moments." 

  
"And answering your question, Peter, yes, of course, I will help you train."

"Oh, believe me," Mr Stark said as Peter reached over and tapped the hologram, making an adjustment to the phone's design, "he is only this nervous in the beginning. Later on, he will not be asking questions. Just making demands."

The Captain laughed, and Peter tried to hide his blush by ducking his head. The talk continued, and Peter resumed trying not to feel out of place in a living room where his two other companions were Iron Man and Captain America.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winter and Captain America? Not a concidence? More likely than you think.
> 
> BTW, the next Chapter is the field trip chapter. I am very excited.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, Comments and contrustive critisims is always apreciated ;) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, my lovelies.


End file.
